


Long Distance

by vanillafluffy



Category: Criminal Minds, The Three Investigators | Die drei ??? - Various Authors
Genre: Fear of Discovery, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Phone Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-11
Updated: 2015-06-11
Packaged: 2018-04-02 22:05:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4075447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vanillafluffy/pseuds/vanillafluffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Part of "The Private Lives of Dr. Spencer Reid and Jupiter Jones" 'verse. Like the old commercial used to say--sometimes, "Long distance is the next best thing to being there.".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Long Distance

It's 11 PM on a Friday evening, and Spence is down in his basement, doing laundry. It's become something of a routine; when he's home on a Friday night--as opposed to being away on a case--he does laundry. He likes routine, and it's good to know he'll have what he needs for the week ahead.

Tonight’s wash includes the contents of the go-bag he'd taken with him on the team's trip to Arkansas...they'd gotten back the two girls who'd been abducted, but one of them is hospitalized from her injuries, and it's going to be a long time before either of them is really okay.

There are worse endings, he reminds himself, pushing the button to start the dryer. 

He wonders what Jupiter is doing. It's three hours earlier in Rocky Beach; he's probably tidying up the kitchen after dinner, or maybe he's done that, and he's out in the workshop tinkering with something. It's easy to picture him with a towel over his shoulder as he puts away the bowls and pans he cooked supper with, maybe singing along to the oldies station he likes to listen to.

As if Spence's thoughts have summoned him, dramatic organ music surges from Spence's pocket. The "Toccata and Fugue in D-minor" is Jupe's ring-tone. He fishes the phone out and accepts the call.

"I was just thinking about you," he says, pleased.

A rumbling chuckle in his ear. "Are you in bed?"

"No, actually I'm doing laundry,"

"Well, that's romantic," Jupe says dryly. "Here I just got out of a long, steamy shower, wishing I had you to wash my back. Now I'm in bed, air-drying and thinking it would be nice to have you around for other things. Remember that time out in the workshop*...?"

Vividly, but he's not up for an assumed persona tonight. "That was pretty unforgettable," he agrees, "but not after the week I've had, sorry."

"Too bad. I was hoping we could try phone sex."

Spence doesn't want to be a buzz-kill. Hmm, bad choice of words. He doesn't want to disappoint his lover, but kink is the last thing on his mind right now. "I don't know," he says, keeping his tone light. "It sounds pretty uncomfortable, and it would probably void the warranty."

He's rewarded with a laugh from Jupiter. 

"I suppose maybe we could have a conversation about sex," he says, because he misses Jupe. They haven't been together in three weeks and four days, and he craves a lot more than talk, he wants a warm body against his, lips nuzzling those places Jupe is so good at finding, expert hands touching him.

"What are you wearing?"

"Khakis. A light blue shirt. Loafers."

"Wrong answer. The correct answer is, 'Nothing, Jupe. Nothing at all'. Take off your clothes."

"Here? In the basement?"

"Sure. You're doing laundry aren't you? Just toss 'em in the basket and wash 'em in the next load. Come on, do it!"

"Just a minute." He puts the phone on 'speaker'. "Okay, my shoes are off. I'm unbuttoning my shirt...I've got it off, it's in the basket...and there's my undershirt...."

"Go, Spencer, go, Spencer!" Jupe is chanting in the background.

"I'm unbuckling my belt--"

"Before you take off your pants, go through the pockets," ever-practical Jupe reminds him.

"My wallet is now on the coffee table next to the phone. So is my belt...." Spence isn't sure why he's blushing so much, possibly because being naked in his basement strikes him as somehow inappropriate. He unfastens his pants and slides everything off at once. Into the basket they go. "Okay, I'm naked."

"Even your socks?"

He sighs and disposes of them as well. "Naked. Now what?"

"Take the phone, and go over to my workbench---" 

"For that, I'm putting my shoes back on." Jupe has set up shop at the far end of the basement with tools and projects; Spence doesn't go over there, because he's not handy, and doesn't want to inadvertently mess up anything Jupe is working on.

"Probably a good idea. Okay, looking at the workbench, on the left-hand side, there should be a blue can that says 'cashews'. Open it."

He stares at the contents in disbelief. "You keep lube and condoms on your workbench?! Oh, wait, I forgot who I was talking to. Of course you do."

"You never know when the urge will strike," Jupe says portentously. "Now, go back and turn on the table lamp by the sofa, and turn off the overhead light. It'll be cozier."

The grey concrete walls fade away. There's a modest circle of light around the seating area. On his own initiative, Spence grabs a bath towel to put down on the couch and a hand towel on general principles.

“Kick off your shoes and get comfortable,” Jupe tells him. “I’m laying here with the ceiling fan going. I have the sheets with the wave pattern on the bed.” Spence can picture Jupe’s bedroom perfectly. “I’ve got my hand wrapped abound my cock, and I’m stroking it, wishing it was your hand…”

Spence can picture that, too, but he’s hot with embarrassment, not lust. “Remember our first time? On the boat? Every time I smell coconut now, it makes me think of that sunscreen you had.”

“Focus, Spence.”

“No, really, the other night after work, Garcia and I went out for drinks. She had a pina colada, and the smell of the coconut gave me an erection.”

Jupe is laughing. “Okay,” he says presently. “Let’s work with that. Ever had sex on the beach?”

“I’m not really into mixed drinks.”

More suppressed mirth. “Let’s imagine you’re here, in Rocky Beach. It’s early. We’re going down to the beach at dawn, when no one else is around, just the two of us. We’ve got everything we need….”

Jupe’s deep voice is measured as he recounts the setting. “We walk down the Promenade until we get to some stairs down to the beach. The street-lamps are still on, it’s early, and the full moon is still up. The waves are breaking on the sand, but everything else is very, very still.”

The dryer is spinning in the background, not exactly the rhythmic crash of waves, but it’ll have to do.

“Under the boardwalk, there’s a perfect patch of smooth sand among the rocks. It’s well above the high-tide line. We can spread out our sheet on that.”

Spence thinks of the sheet Jupe brought aboard the boat, back when they’d first gotten together. Which in turn reminds him of the scent of sunblock, and his cock twitches. 

Right, he’s supposed to be encouraging that. He takes hold of his cock, and draws his curled fingers along the length of it. “Nice….”

“Very nice. We’ll sit down on the sheet, and kiss…I’ll kiss your neck, I know how much you enjoy that.”

“I do, especially when you’ve got a bit of stubble…” With his free hand, Spence brushes his fingertips against the side of his neck, imagining Jupe’s kisses. “And I know you love it when I suck your nipples….” 

There's a little too much of the wrong kind of friction. This would probably work better with more lube. Yes? Yes. That’s definitely an improvement. Okay, Jupe, beach, sex at dawn… 

The setting is so clear in his mind that he’s inspired to add, “The cool sea breeze makes your nipples tighten up when I move my mouth away.”

He can hear heavy breathing from fifteen hundred miles away. “Oh god, Spence, I’m so hard it hurts. I need you so bad—“ 

“Tell me what you want me to do.” 

“Need you to fuck me. Please, please fuck me.”

“Get on your hands and knees, looking out toward the ocean. There’s a hint of rosy light in the sky. I reach into the bag…” —the battered canvas tote Jupe lugs to the store or boating trips— and I find the sunscreen….”

Sunscreen wouldn’t work in real life, but he can rationalize it easily enough in fantasy. “I use two fingers to get you nice and slick….” Jupe moans a little, and Spence reaches for the can again. He’d be using a rubber if this was really happening, maybe that will make it feel more real.

“Need you,” Jupe gasps, “Need you hard and fast, please oh god please—!” 

“Hold on, I’m putting on the condom,” He needs another squirt of lube on his palm. “Here we go. Now….” He squeezes the head of his cock, slides his fist down the shaft, tightening at the base, concentrating on the remembered sensation of entering Jupiter. “You’re so tight, it feels so good. A little deeper….”

“That’s it! Right there!”

“Take it! Take it all!” Spence’s hand skims the latex, a blur as he strokes himself. The moist slapping noises coming from the speaker suggest that similar action is taking place at the other end. 

“Oh yeah, drive it home, pound me good!”

“Hard and fast, my balls slapping against yours—“

There’s an unmistakable groan followed by labored breathing. Okay, so Jupe’s gotten off. Which is great for him, but he had a headstart. Spence is totally with the program now, and he’s not even close to running out of steam. He cups his balls with his free hand, and begs, ”That’s it, squeeze me, you’re so hot—“

“I’m seeing stars,” Jupe tells him, still out of breath. “Your big cock is filling me so good, oh yeah…harder, that’s right….

“The sky is rosy pink and indigo blue where it meets the sea,” Jupe’s voice is stronger now. “The world is waking up. Someone’s out running on the Promenade, their steady strides coming closer and closer…they’re right overhead…moving on past….”

Spance is panting, trying not to moan or make any noise that might alert a passerby; his eyes are closed, and he’s completely embraced the scene they’ve created.

There’s a jingling sound, coming closer and closer to the speaker. “What’s that?”

“It sounds like someone’s walking their dog,” Jupe says, his voice hushed. “But don’t stop, Spence, you can’t stop, I need your hard cock!” It’s the cheesiest porn flick dialogue ever, but Jupe sells it.

It’s so vivid, the rocks around them, the weathered planks of the boardwalk overhead…a series of thumps nearby….

“Someone’s coming down the stairs…it’s a guy in a wetsuit….” Spence whimpers. He’s heard surfers call wetsuits ‘body condoms’. The latex membrane encasing his cock is exciting him, giving him a sensation more like real sex that a bare hand job. ”He’s going down to the water with his board, he hasn’t noticed us…it’s okay, he’s paddling out for a wave….”

Jupe’s voice goes even lower. “He’s going to ride a wave, but you’re going to ride me, aren’t you? Those short, hard strokes, just the way I like it, cause you know what I need, don’t you, Spence?”

He’s punctuating his words with more rhythmic squishy noises that Spence finds highly suggestive. “Smell that coconut. And the briny ocean air….

“There’s someone coming down the beach with a metal detector…far enough that I can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman, it’s okay, don’t stop, please, give it to me, yeah, just like that---” 

Jingling again, and Spence hopes like hell that the imaginary mutt doesn’t smell them. Hope they’re not discovered, because he’s close, so damn close, flesh slapping against flesh….

“It’s going to be a beautiful day—beautiful—that’s so good—ahh—!” 

Spence flashes on Jupe’s dark tousled head and broad shoulders silhouetted against the brightening sky. Thinks of his muscular thighs and the curve of his ass and the way it's gripping him tight and that’s it. He’s there, shooting his load with a strangled cry.

“That was so good,” Jupe croons. “Wasn’t it? Hey, we’d better get our trunks back on, it looks like the guy on the board is coming in. The woman with the metal detector is digging in the sand, but she’s not that far off.” Jingling again….

Snap back to reality. There is no dog. 

“Now what?” he gasps.

“We’ll grab the sheet, head back up to the Promenade. We could stop by the bakery for rolls, or we can go home and I’ll make pancakes, your choice.” Thumping again, as if they’re going up steps “,,,Good morning, Mr. Duggan, good morning, Mr. Snuffles!” Jingling dog tags. “Glorious day, isn’t it?”

“It’s a good thing you’ll be back here in a few weeks,” Spence tells him, wiping his hands on the small towel. “I think you might need a reality check.” 

“Why? Mr. Duggan walks his dog every morning, and sits on that same bench at the head of the stairs and reads his newspaper.”

“So that was a real imaginary dog?” He hopes Jupe hasn’t started to come unglued, all alone in California. Ridiculous, he tells himself. Jupiter’s ability to make new friends is astonishing. Still, there’s a difference of depth between chatting with someone in a store and being in a steady relationship with someone.

“That was my real car keys standing in for an imaginary dog,” Jupe replies. “I try to run four or five times a week, so I know who the early-birds are. The guy on the surfboard is Eddie—we go way back, he’s out there most mornings. That lady with the metal detector? Miss Silvestri. Works at Pacific Coast Savings and Loan. Collects kitchen timers.”

Spence exhales. Gingerly removes the condom from his wilted penis. Takes it and the phone and gets up, knees still shaky.

“The sound effects were brilliant,” he admits, deciding to ignore the issue of populating a sexual fantasy with real people as extras. There’s a small trash can next to the dryer. He deposits the shrunken balloon in it atop a nest of dryer lint.

“Anything to enhance your masturbatory pleasure, It was good for me, too.” 

The dryer buzzes loudly, and Spence jumps.

“Okay, that’s my cue. You’re probably ready to turn into a pumpkin.” 

“I still have to hang this stuff up, but there’s not much. What about you? You’re not sleepy this early, are you?”

“No, I’ve got the new Tom Clancy from the library, I’m gonna read that for a while. Hey, will you do one more thing for me?”

:What did you have in mind?” Spence inquires warily.

“After you get the laundry squared away, and that can back on my workbench, I want you to go upstairs naked.”

Spence, who was reaching for a tee shirt, pulls his hand back. Sometimes, it’s a little scary how well Jupe knows him. “Why?”

“Why not? No one can see you, and I’m going to enjoy thinking about you sauntering into the downstairs hallway butt-naked, going up the stairs one at a time, all long legs and alabaster buttocks—“

He’s blushing again. “I’ll see you in two weeks and five days**, Good night, Jupe.”

“Sweet dreams, Spence.”

Spence disconnects the call. And leaves the tee shirt with the rest of the clean laundry.

 

OO++OO++OO++OO++OO++OO

* Involves acting out one of Jupe's fantasies, Spence in disguise, a little S&m and role-playing....

** This is set mid-March, the year after the events of “Guests at the Table”. Jupe will be coming to DC for the cherry blossoms again.


End file.
